


Rabbit

by mescalinen



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alernate Universe, Alternate Universe - Army, Alternate Universe - World War I, Fights, First Meetings, Gen, Soldiers, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 08:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16950120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mescalinen/pseuds/mescalinen
Summary: Tom, a private who is guarding in an old windmill, finds an enemy soldier on the run.





	Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> requested by flowersflowers

    Tom yawns, leaning his rifle on the wall. He slides down against the wooden wall so he’s sitting down. He figures its not even midnight yet, and that thought is not very optimistic to him in this situation.

  
    Tom jumps up when he hears a rustle. He was sure there were no rodents before. Then it returns. A whole haystack is moving around and throwing off the tiny specks. Spooked but willing to check, Tom grabs his rifle and tiptoes towards the haystack. He pokes at it with the rifle nose. Nothing.  
    Tom huffs and is ready to put his rifle away when something shoots straight out of the haystack. Tom yelps, jumping back and pointing the rifle at... a person? A person’s head, to be exact.

  
    Tom’s heartbeat quickens and the blood rushes to his ears. Underneath, it seems that the man is dressed in uniform, but Tom can’t see his face.  
    The person leaps out and dives for Tom, pushing him down. Thankfully Tom’s rifle didn’t fire, but it did fall out of his reach.  
    Tom struggles underneath the terribly heavy mass, grunting and trying to push the soldier off. The attacker yells something to Tom in a foreign language.

    ‘I’m peaceful, I’m peaceful!’ Tom’s scared out of his skin and begs for the person to get off of him. 

    ‘English soldier?’ the soldier stops shaking Tom’s soldiers but he’s still on top of him.

    ‘Yes, yes! Get off of me!’ Tom pounds his fists against the attacker.

    The foreign soldier looks down at Tom, as if trying to figure out what he means. He stands up, and Tom scrambles to his feet. His rifle is still out of reach.

    ‘Calm, Tommy,’ the foreigner says.

    ‘It’s Tom, not-‘ Tom blinks and goes pale. This soldier knew his name! He must’ve been a spy! ‘You know my name. . .’

    The foreigner’s eyes glint with amusement in the dark. ‘Every English soldier is called Tommy, no?’

    ‘What? No.’

    Then Tom realizes. This is an enemy, on English land.

    ‘Why are you here and where do you come from?’

    ‘I am from the Heimatland.’

    Tom gasps.

    ‘You’re a Fritz!’

    ‘Not be afraid, Tommy. I rabbit.’

    Tom blinks at him. Was the man’s English lexis seriously suffering, or was he making fun of Tom?

    ‘I run.’

    Tom finally understands. This soldier ran away from his army. He was on the run, as they called it. But why was he sharing this with Tom? Maybe he was a spy after all. Tom decides to talk on one level, just in case.

    ‘What’s your name?’

    ‘*** my family name.’

    ‘No, I mean- your name? Like, Tommy, but...’

    The soldiers says something, and Tom wonders if that was his name or a word in his language.

    ‘That’s quite a mouthful... what if I call you...’

    Tom tries to come up with something decently sounding.

    ‘How about Tord? You take some of the first letters of your name and the last one and together they make Tord!’

    The Fritz nods and smiles, and Tom figures he didn’t understand what he said.  
   The name sounded odd, but it was still better than reciting as much as the damn federal laws each time to call him.

    ‘You guard windmill?’ Tord asks.

    ‘Yea, ‘been here since yesterday.’

    ‘Well, you are not good guard. I come here on Son— Sunday.’

    Tom thinks for a moment. Sunday was two days ago! How did he not notice? Tom huffs, not replying.

   ‘Why are you running?’ Tom asks, murmuring.

    ‘I want to live. I don’t want die by fight.’

    Tom figures that’s fair. He doesn’t fear him anymore, though. No decent soldier runs away. Tom wonders if he should tell the others when he comes back.

    ‘You not tell other Tommies about me, right?’ Tord asks. His eyes glint hopefully.

    ‘Why shouldn’t I? Maybe you’re lying, maybe you’re a spy!’ Tom puffs out his chest.

    Tord looks at Tom with such defeat and pleading in his eyes, that Tom lowers himself and looks away, not really sure what to feel.

 

    Tord sighs sharply and slides down, sitting down with his back against a wooden crate.

    ‘Tomorrow I leave, Tommy. Then you can continue your guard,’ he says.

    Tom nods. He feels awful, doing a favor for an enemy, but something tells him this man’s life is worth risking for.

   Tom slides down next to Tord, bringing his knees to his chest.

    ‘Where are you gonna go?’ Tom asks.

    ‘The mountains. My family there.’

    ‘Do they know you’re coming back to them?’

    ‘I don’t know,’ Tord confesses, ‘I sent many letters, but never get any back.’

    Tom chews his inner cheek. From one side, he is fascinated at how Tord is still hopeful, but on the other hand, his gut screams at him of the reason why the Fritz hadn’t recieved any letters back.

    Tord glances at Tom for a moment and his lips move like he’s murming something to himself. He then stretches and puts his rifle to the side.

    Tom is sitting, knees against chest, still not accepting the fact that he is next to a Fritz, sitting calmly! How?

    He is still sitting like that even after his shoulder is patted by a large hand.

    ‘Gute Nacht, Tommy.’


End file.
